Been waiting a lifetime...

As far back as I can remember, I have dreamed about being a farmer; glamorized the thought, actually.  The intoxicating scent of dirt in my hands, a wind-blown healthy glow on my face, and fresh country air in my lungs...this was my passion of passions. 

Had I had enough money or the smarts to land a scholarship, I'd have chosen Cornell University, hands down, back in 1975 and majored in agriculture.  I was lucky to walk the Cornell campus in awe, once.  Those beautiful ivy covered buildings stood as a holy temple of all things good and wholesome, releasing class after graduating class of savvy farmers who not only held the knowledge to feed the world but executed it with Ivy League style.  

...I was inspired there. 

...I felt whole there.  

...I could be completely me there.  

YES!

Umm,...No.

It never happened.  No money and even less brains squashed any hope.  I settled on SUNY @Buffalo and graduated with a B.S. In Laboratory Science. (Don't ask me why, for I have no clue myself how I got talked into taking my big sister's advice on a career choice,  "just because I liked science.")

Thirty-three years later after getting sidetracked, I pulled my dream together and finally bought a small farm.  I gardened for all those years, but it was nothing more than a glimpse of real life on the farm.  Boy oh boy, have I gotten an education. They call it, " The School of Hard Knocks".

Because I bought a place with hundreds and hundreds of blueberry bushes, I instantly became a blueberry farmer.  Since then, I've learned a few things about blueberries...and a lot about myself.

The journey has not been glamorous, in the least, but my desire is more alive than ever.

...I am inspired here.

...I feel whole here.

...I am completely me here.

YES!

2016 is my year to be a farmer full time, as I plan my retirement from my career in laboratory science.  I still want it as much as I did all those years ago. Maybe even more.

The intoxicating scent of dirt in my hands, a wind blown healthy glow on my face and fresh country air in my lungs are real, and no longer just a dream.

It is my passion of passions. 

Bonne Annee!

Happy New Year!

I do too much when "I Do"...

Boy, does time fly.

If I can make an excuse for having my last topic post almost a year ago, 

it is because I have been relatively busy. 

Yes, it's true that everything has a time and a season on the farm. 

But, I have a definite knack of trying to force it and accomplish way more than just that. 

(It's extreme enough to classify as a disease state 

when everyone is asking, " What's WRONG with you?!")

So, although way overdue putting "the pen to the paper", I came by it honestly.

1. Spring planting.

(Major wedding planning on the farm begins!)

2. Summer cultivation, picking and farmer' s markets.

(Major wedding spruce up inside and out on the farm... 

New paint because nothing can look dirty or old,

New railings for us old folks, 

New refrigerator because one isn't enough,

New lights because the old ones just weren't "cute" enough,

New tile on a perfectly good backsplash, 

New driveway for a fresh exterior facelift.

(...should have gone with getting the Botox 

instead of the one grand of rocks. It was a tough decision!)

New ornamental garden after the Lowes driver ran over the existing one,

delivering the new refrigerator.)

3. Fall harvest, weeding and replanting.

(Major work orchestrating and pulling off a September wedding. And, it was lovely!)

4.  Winter Spring cleanup and garden expansion before planting.

(That is no typo.  Time flies, but Winter has flown the coop this year.

79 deg F, blueberries confused and blooming, way too much rain...

In other words, "Spring.")

This second post of 2015, although eleven months too late, does one thing; 

it helps me make my first New Year's resolution.

"I do resolve to post in 2016...and live happily ever after."

Getting ready...

It will be here, in full force, before you know it.

It shows itself a little bit every day;  
in the earthy smell of the breeze, 
in the red tips of the blueberries, 
in the change of the length of days.

 Le Farm is welcoming every subtle shift.  

It is the epitome of transformation.

It is Spring.

A late winter sunrise on Le Farm

Twelve months of busy farm life....

So...

Everyone knows,
who knows about farming,
knows that there is no rest
for the weary for a farmer.
Even with everything I've accomplished,
this past year has really flown by,
so I thought I would share exactly what it is
that I do here on Le Farm, from month to month.

January and February...  

This is my only chance to do major work outside, 

without having to douse myself in DEET.  

(I hate the stuff, but I literally would be just bones 

with itchy, bloody flesh hanging on them without it.)

 (Dead serious.  I would be seriously dead.)

This winter work involves pruning blackberries and blueberries,
pruning an acre of grapevines (and to exercise sustainability I
make wreaths and spheres from the vines),
digging new garden space and planning the garden for next year.

Did I mention that seeds need to be started now? 

And, I have to be very diligent to keep them warm.

Good luck. HA!
(Insert a very snide giggle here, unless you have a heated greenhouse, you lucky, lucky dog.)

March...

The ides of March made a mark on Roman history

with the assassination of Julius Caesar... 

or the movie directed by George Clooney,

whichever you choose to remember.

I see it as a cleverly disguised impostor that always,

without fail,

brings a heavy, wet snow to the southern states,

destroying any hope of an early spring planting, 

unless it is one of the few cold loving plants 

that does not mind a thick blanket of slush, 

but also notoriously bolts as soon as the sun shines.
... a catch 22.

All I can do is wait.

Dream of spring... drink beaucoup amounts 
of red wine, 
green beer,
and wait.

April...

I never get too anxious early on, 

or I will pay the price and need to replant everything 
that took weeks to get grown and into the ground.
The garden has been sleeping under a huge thick blanket of mulch 
loaded up from my many leaves last fall.
Can't wait to see that beautiful black loam it produces.
Some spinach and lettuce may have survived the winter garden, but nonetheless, it is very sad to see them go.    
They can't survive the impending heat that forces them to go to seed,
so, I have to concede and say, "Aurevoir".  

A week past the last frost is a good bet for planting.

(I have to be clairvoyant to know when that is...another talent that comes in very handy.) 

But patience is a virtue necessity, my friend. 
This year, I built a high tunnel that weighed over 500 lbs, 
to extend my growing season.
I moved all the pieces 4 times;  from truck to gate, from gate to trailer, 
from trailer to ground, from ground to tunnel. 
(So, basically, I moved 2000# myself, who cannot even bench press 100#.)

May...

I have just a few weeks before the heat sets in 

to get everything in the ground.

(Btw...Get out the DEET.) 
Early blueberries have me hopeful.
They taste amazing and fool me into wanting to pick more.

I take the bait and become a picking fool, as sweat drips down my back,
and carpal tunnel sets in.

June...

Ahhhhh, June. 

Up to my gills in blueberries.
There's little time for anything else but picking and selling.
Believe me, money is a motivator.
(And, even as fabulously wonderful as they are, 
there is only so much you can do with blueberries
before you are really sick and tired of them.  Into the freezer they go.)

Blackberries also ripen now, and the window of opportunity 
to have my arms look like I have been the prime contender
in a cat fight shuts tight after a few short weeks.
(But, they sure are goooood!)

  

July and August...
As the dog days of summer arrive, 
the unbearable heat cannot be escaped
when you are in the garden every waking moment,
and ironically, 
my dogs choose to enjoy the comfort of air conditioning.
I pray for rain, then pray for reprieve from the mosquitoes 
that could carry me away...like Calgon.  
The garden is in full swing, figs came and went, and by now
I am getting ready for a break.  Can't take one, but I am more than ready.
I dream of snow and an arctic blast.

September, October, November...
The garden holds out until the first frost.  It turns brown overnight and is my cue to rake and pile mounds of leaves on top,  
to nourish it and keep weeds at bay without the need for tilling.
The winter garden is planted early September, after the high heat ends.
Germination needs cooler temps for spinach, lettuce, broccoli, cabbage and kale.  Mustard greens and turnips are sown, too.  
It really is amazing to have these crops all winter here in the south.
We former northerners are programmed to wait until spring for these beauties.

December...
Time to put up the 12 ft. Christmas tree
and get out the seed catalogues, as my mustard greens 
simmer on the stove.  
(And boy, those frozen blueberries taste like
spring again, on top of my morning crepes!)
Hmmm...Tonight, I just might pick some lettuce and spinach 
and make a nice salad for dinner.

Looking back, it is all worth it...the hard work all year long, 
to live this healthy farm life.

Yeah...I get tired, 
dog tired,
but it is definitely worth it.

Take a bite outta this...

There is something really, really good that comes from 

a cold, cold winter 

down in the deep, deep south.

 (And it has nothing to do with 

sending all the Yankees  

 back home, so don't get your hopes up.) 

So, what is it, then?

It is...

Amazing Growth!

Thus, without thought or deliberation,

here on Le Farm, 

this has to be dubbed, 

none other than; 

"The Year of the 

Amazing, Humongous, Monstrous, Incredible Pear."

(All I can say is, these suckers are énorme.)

All three trees were loaded with juicy, amazing pears this year.  
I was under the impression that they politely took turns, 
and produced a bounty every third year.  

Farming is the science of statistics...
events really are predictable.  
For instance, "Clear moon frost soon", or 
"Cloud like towers, frequent showers."  Ever hear this?
"The taller the sunflower, the deeper the snow."
 These stats matter according to folklore, The Farmer's Almanac and everybody's great grandpa.

I chalk it up to Mother Nature...
She does as she pleases.
Always has, always will. 
She is the master statistician. 
(I keep relearning this lesson over and over and over... 
a statistical pattern in itself.)

So far, I have been painfully hit square in the mouth and the left eye by these blonde bombers falling from the tree, but the pain is worth the pleasure when a scrumptious pear tart, sweeter than any fall apple pie, comes steaming out of the oven.
{Can't you just smell it???}  

It just goes to show that life on the farm is full of surprises.
And sometimes, they are fabulous!

(Now, if she could just do something about my pecan trees that are on strike...) 

Hugelkultur rocks my world...

"Step aside Viggo Mortensen"... 

I have a new foreign love interest.  

I am crazy head over heels in love with,

Hugel Kultur! 

(Actually, it is just a singular name,
sort of like Prince...

when Prince was just plain 'ol "Prince".)

Meet Mr. "Hugelkultur."

Yes, he's German and his name means "hill culture".

Here is a lovely depiction of my new hardworking hunk...

The concept of our love stems from all the naturally decomposing materials 

under the soil stacked as high as you wish to go.

And boy does he work hard!

Everything grown in this luscious environment is huge...organic and huge!
(Those are 2 terms rarely paired together on an organic farm, but oh so desired for a hunk.)


The produce grows healthy and gigantic, without any of that fake miracle grow.
A typical mound is about 20' in diameter and 1-2' tall.
To tell you the truth, I've never seen my beans and squash looking so large and full.

Underneath the pine straw is a layer of dirt from grass I dug out of my garden,
 and underneath the dirt is a pile of old branches,
that I cut down two years ago.
It was an eye sore on Le Farm, until this eye candy came around!
It doesn't take much to make a big difference
in the quality of whatever you have growing in it.

I created another Hugelkultur bed for cukes and mustard greens.
They are also doing fabulous; bigger and better than previous years.

Permaculture "groupies" talk about Hugelkultur and have forever, it seems.
It's the original raised bed.  It's not a new concept, but I've never seen any farmer use it.
(He's rocked the hippie world for quite some time.)

I'm just glad he's rocking mine, now!

My new 593# baby...

Today I had a delivery...a 593# baby came to live at Le Farm.

I've already moved each piece of this 593# baby twice.  

"Three times a charm", because I have yet to move it to its 

final location for assembly.

It is my new NRCS (Natural Resource Conservation Service) high tunnel.

I finally ordered it, and it finally came!

YAY!

After I plow up the earth underneath it, it will house 

100 day-neutral strawberry plants.

They are a variety that produces fruit from late May to late fall.  

The 1-2" berries may be a bit smaller than June-bearing varieties, 

but they are very flavorful and sweet.

Incidentally, 

this is why I am growing my own organic strawberries...

Thanks to Wilma @Dog Day Farm for this great depiction of 

what is shockingly hidden in conventionally grown strawberries.

You don't have to grow your own, 

just always insist on buying ORGANIC.

It is well worth the extra dollar.

Don't you agree?